Complicated
by auzziewitch
Summary: After a onenight stand, Danny and Sam have spent six years attempting to be happy together with the life they created. When an old flame returns, their attempted happiness is dogged by old feelings, and a love that will never come. DSMS
1. Chapter 1

Hey all. This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and finally i've decided to put this trail of ideas into story form. I hope some people like it.**  
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**Title: Complicated  
Rating: M (to be safe)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Wat, i just like borrowing the characters every so often.**

**Summary: After a one-night stand, Danny and Sam have spent six years attempting to be happy together with the life they created. When an old flame returns, their attempted happiness is dogged by old feelings, and a love that will never come.****  
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**-- **

**Prologue**

Sam sighed as she allowed the door to swing closed behind her, her little girl running in ahead of her calling for her father.

"He's not home yet, sweet-heart." Sam called as her daughter disappeared into the family room.

"But why?" She heard the young girl's voice call, before she reappeared from the kitchen in front of her.

Sam sighed, hanging her coat up and kicking her shoes off, not caring where they landed, making her way into the kitchen. "Because Papí has to work, baby, that's why." She attempted to explain as she began emptying the bags of groceries.

The little girl collapsed into one of the seats around the kitchen table, in front of where Sam had placed the grocery bags. The room filled with silence as the 6 year old girl watched her mother empty the two brown, paper bags, before finally dropping them, empty, into the bin.

Samantha straightened, heading for the sink, grabbing a glass as she walked past the cupboard.

"What?" She asked as she turned to face her daughter who was still avidly watching her.

"Why don't I look like you?" The little girl asked.

Sam, who had a mouthful of water, stared at the little girl, forgetting to swallow. After a few moments she remembered the water and felt it rushing down her throat.

"What do you mean I don't look like you?" She asked the little girl who was now playing with her fingernails.

"All the girls at school look just like their mommies do, but I have darker skin and hair than you do." Sam could see her little girl's eyes begin to water and recognized tears were about to fall.

"Hey, there's no need to cry, sweetheart." Sam placed the glass on the bench beside the sink and pulled up the seat beside her daughter. "You look like your Papí. Be proud of your exotic looks." She lifted her daughter's chin so they were looking at each other, so similar, yet different brown eyes meeting each other.

"Can I go watch TV?" Sometimes Sam marvelled at how easily her daughter maintained her focus.

She smiled at the bright face looking up at her. "How can I say no?" She sighed. The little girl recognized her mother's words as a 'yes' and skipped into the family room, where the sounds of the television promptly filled the apartment.

She sighed, noticing her hand resting on the table, the two small rings no longer glistening the same way they once had.

An hour later she heard the front door click, and the sound of her husband returning from work.

"Papí!" She heard her little girl squeal, followed by her husband's greeting, as she could only assume their daughter had attached herself to his legs, preventing any further entrance into the apartment.

"Hola Sophie. Cómo es hoy mi chica hermosa?" She heard his voice, followed by what sounded as though he kissed her. "I guess you've had a much more interesting day than I have." Sam heard the little squeal her daughter made when he picked her up.

"Okay I take that as a yes." She heard him chuckle before he announced his presence to Sam, entering the kitchen, and watching her intently. "And before we catch up any more on our days, how about you go and watch some more TV whilst mommy and I talk, okay?" He asked, only as he finished speaking to her did he look at her.

When Sophie was out of the room, Sam looked to the man across from her and smiled weakly. "Is everything alright?" She asked as the happy face he had put on for his daughter fell.

Danny leaned against the counter, whilst at the same time opening the fridge and pulling out a soda. "I don't know." He sighed, removing the lid before downing a series of mouthfuls.

Sam cringed inwardly, mimicking his pose. "What's wrong?"

Danny sighed again, rolling his head back and resting it against the cupboards. How was he supposed to say this?

"Danny?" Her voice sounded again, and the distant sound of the TV and children's cartoons caused him to sigh heavily.

"He's back, Sam." He whispered, lifting the bottle to his lips but unable to drink.

Sam shook her head confused. "Who?"

Danny rolled his head forward and stared at her. "Martin."

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	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Seven Years Ago_

Samantha walked into the dark, cold, empty apartment; alone. Sure in the past few months she'd come home to this same scene before, but then she always had the knowledge that he wouldn't be too far away – he was either finishing up some work or was picking up some food for them to share. Now, all she had was herself, her phone, and the alcohol in her left hand.

Somehow she'd managed to hold it together all day. That moment he ended it, all she had felt like doing was shouting at him, but she couldn't do that, especially not in the office where everyone could watch them. Then Jack chastising her, and telling her to "keep it out of the office"; she could have screamed!

And then they came back from Albany and there he was, standing at the conference table, placing the last few files in the box they had come in to return them. She watched him leave through the reflection in the window, and repeatedly swallowed the lump in her throat. It wasn't until she was in her car, sitting in front of the wheel that she let her tears fall.

This wasn't her. This wasn't the strong and independent Samantha Spade who didn't let men drag her down. God, she hadn't even cried like this when Jack ended things, but maybe that was because she knew it was going to end sooner or later – she had always known that with him.

But with Martin; and it didn't help that she was again comparing the two men.

God, why did she always do that, compare the two most recent men who had taken her heart, and given her theirs? What was she trying to prove, especially when every time she found herself comparing them, Martin always came out on top; then again that was always going to be the case because he was close to twenty years younger than Jack was, and thus didn't have all the emotional baggage.

So as she wiped the tears from her eyes, some five minutes after they had first started falling, she decided that the best thing to take her mind away was booze. She didn't care that she would likely wake up the following morning with a mass headache and all of today's problems still there, she just needed to escape it all.

She sighed as she closed her front door, wiping some fresh moisture from her eyes as she moved further into her home, only flicking on the kitchen light as she moved into the cramped-for-space room.

Placing the bottle, still wrapped in the paper bag, on the counter, she moved to her fridge silently, hoping she still had the bottle of lemon soda.

After a few minutes of searching she found the green bottle, filled with carbonated lemon fizz, and taking a large glass, filled it. The paper bag removed, she held the bottle in her hand, moving to pour some into the glass of lemon. But her wrist wouldn't make the decisive move to make lemon-flavored vodka. Instead, her shoulder brought the lid-free bottle to her lips, tipping the bottle up and allowing the contents to flow down her throat.

After five or six mouthfuls she moved the bottle back to the bench, resting both hands against it as she shook off the immediate effects: her head fizzing, her eyes burning, her throat reeling, and her liver demanding more.

Again and again she took mouthfuls of the water colored liquid, until little more than half of the original contents remained. At this point, Sam made her way to her bedroom, pulling a night slip from her cupboard and changing into it awkwardly. When she was done, she still hadn't managed to slide one arm through one strap, so the slip was hanging from the one shoulder, her right nipple occasionally feeling cold air.

It was at this point that she reached for her phone, dialing a number, not focusing on who's it was.

"Hello?" Came the drowsy answer.

"I nee to seeoo." She slurred, collapsing onto her bed.

"Sam? What are you doing calling me at, one in the morning?" His voice moaned after a beat.

"I wan oo talk." She responded, not focusing that the voice speaking to her was not the one she had initially planned on talking too.

"Sam, have you been drinking?" His voice asked.

"I'm depressd. An' I go' dumed tooay." She retorted. "Please, jus come ovah." She moaned. There was a pause, an extended silence, which to Sam, felt like forever. "Pleeeese!"

She heard a sigh. "I'll be there soon." Sam couldn't remember how to hang up her phone, and left it on the table in front of her, finding the vodka bottle and taking another couple of mouthfuls. She then wandered around her apartment haphazardly, pulling the slip off when it continued to interfere with some of her arm movements.

When there was a knock on her door, she didn't even think about the fact she was naked, only that _he _was on the other side.

"Sam!" Danny exclaimed upon her opening the door and him seeing her naked form.

"Wah? Neva see a nay-ked wom-an before?" She smiled, attempting to be seductive, taking his free hand and pulling him into the room, pushing the door shut behind him.

"Yes, I have seen naked women before, but not you!" Her breath caught in his senses and reminded him of his non-sober days.

She pulled away, having been so near to him, her lips about to kiss him. "Don you lie-k emee?" She asked quietly.

"No, no, no, it's not that. I do like you, I just don't want," he motioned between them both, "this to get complicated."

Sam smiled at his words, and jumped close to him, giving him a tight hug, and, knowingly or not, pressing her naked body hard against his clothed. A moment or so later, Danny heard tears, refusing to reciprocate her hug for fears it may be interpreted the wrong way.

"Ee dumped me Danny." She cried onto his shoulder. "Today, before Jack, took me away. In-ee office, ee dumped me." She sobbed hard, losing balance in her knees and collapsing against him.

Danny groaned inwardly. He picked her up, and began carrying her to her bedroom in the darkness. In her room, it wasn't until he walked into the bed, falling awkwardly on top of her, that he found her bed.

"Here. Are you okay, do you want me to get you something?" He breathed, getting off of her, and moving her about so she was under the covers.

"Stay." She whispered, finding his head with her flaying arms and pulling him close, whispering in his ear.

Danny nodded. "Okay, I'll be on the couch next-" He began.

"No. Stay here, with me." She begged, and Danny thought she was about to cry again.

Danny felt everything go cold around him. "Sam, I, you're like a sister to me."

Sam moaned. "Don't talk." She sat up, reaching for him again, pulling him close, moving to kiss him. Her arms found a hand, and instead, she pulled it to the skin of her cheek, forcing his fingers to caress her lips, before moving them down to her breasts, moving his fingers over her skin, feeling her heart rate speed up. "Please Danny."

Unbeknownst to him, Danny had sat down on the bed beside her, her silk like skin at his fingertips warming his body, pumping his blood. She leaned towards him, capturing his lips in a kiss, her hand leaving his, still massaging her breast, tickling her nipple, caressing her skin. Her hands moved to his body, to his shirt, pulling it over his head before wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him down atop her.

Their lips never parted, with Danny's hands locking onto her body, one focusing on her breasts, while the other slid south, across her belly, through the short, sparse hairs, into her folds.

She moaned his name as he began tickling her clit, his mouth now moving along her skin in a trail of kisses, stopping at her left nipple, teasing it with his tongue in a similar pattern and beat that he was with his finger to her warm and wet centre.

Her own hands moved above her head, grabbing the pillows and the bed head as she felt her first orgasm for the night near. Her back arched, her hips rose; she was so close, yet it was right when she was there, just before she tipped into that abyss known as orgasm, that he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" She groaned, feeling his body's warmth leave her.

"Taking my jeans off." He responded, standing off the bed, removing his jeans before replacing his body above hers.

Sam could feel his erection pressing against her centre, and reached for it, trying to move it inside her body. Danny moved her hands, taking them both and moving them above her head, before placing himself properly at her entrance.

"Please, Danny!" She begged, shifting, trying to feel him.

Danny's heart pumped harder when he heard her utter his name, glad that she knew who was doing this too her. He smiled above her, sliding into her, instantly feeling her tighten around him. He smiled as she called out his name, thrusting into her faster and faster, thumbing her clit, drawing out this orgasm as long as he possibly could.

Sam didn't care if she was drunk or not. This man above her was a stud, keeping the intensity of her climax up for so long. She couldn't remember the last time a first time had been so entirely amazing.

After what was an eternity, he finally collapsed on top of her, having left a lasting impression about the night on both of them. Still inside her, and feeling her labored breathing, he wrapped his arms about her, before rolling off.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh." Sam followed him, straddling him. "I want as much of that as possible before I fall asleep." She kissed his neck, reaching for his penis between their bodies and reviving it.

"Sam, I can't." He groaned beneath her, his hands teasing her sides.

"Yes, you can." She lowered herself above him, immediately setting a fast pace, and finding her release a few moments later.

"Satisfied?" Danny chuckled into her neck.

"Oh very much so." She sighed, before falling asleep above him.

Danny chuckled, wrapping his arms about her and pulling the covers over them. He had no idea what just happened, only that it was great, nor did he have any idea where this left them. Were they still friends? Actually, couldthey still _be _friends? After all, it was too soon for them to begin a relationship given she'd only just broken up with Martin.

And at the same time, would she even want a relationship with him? This made it three guys from the same team she'd slept with, and given Danny knew most of Sam's workplace fears; being labeled the bureau slut was high amongst them.

And it was at this point Danny remembered how drunk she was, and that he had just taken advantage of her. He screwed up his eyes, and clenched his jaw together in recognition of this discovery, but still hating himself, found himself unable to leave, instead falling asleep, wondering how complicated they had just made their lives.

--

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	3. Chapter 3

_A big thank you to all those who have reviewed thus far, means the world._

**Chapter Two**

It had been two weeks since their indiscretion, and Sam's life was a mess. She hated herself, knowing that she was in love with Martin and that he didn't know that, and at the same time knowing that she had slept with his best friend.

Why did she have such a good knack at screwing up other peoples lives at the same time that she screwed up her own?

She still hadn't had a chance to talk to Danny about what was going on between them. Actually that was a lie, she had no intention of talking to him about it, and had every intention of avoiding the issue until she had reformed her ways, joined a convent, and re-declared herself to be a virgin.

Okay so that definitely wasn't going to happen, but in the mean time, all she could do was sit at her desk, pine over her lost love, work this stupid case and worry about Viv's pending heart surgery.

God she needed to get a life.

_Oh wait, I forgot, I do have one; one where I destroy other's._

"Talking to yourself?" Sitting at her desk, Sam looked up to see Jack's face leaning down over the top bench.

Sam looked away from him, feeling embarrassed. "No, no, just, ahh"

"Never mind, I won't hold it against you." He smiled, walking around and leaning against the desk beside her. "What are you still doing here?" He asked, crossing his arms.

Sam glanced out the window, seeing the darkness of the sky and the bright lights from the surrounding buildings. "Just finishing up this report." She turned, forcing a smile, trying in vain to get rid of him.

Jack nodded, clearly not convinced. "Was Paige transferred cleanly."

Sam nodded, still hoping that he would leave her alone. "As well as can be expected." She forced that smile on again. "How's Viv?" She knew that was the reason he had left the moment the case was wrapped up, and was probably back here now to get his paperwork done.

Jack nodded, rolling his head from side to side. "She's good. Marcus told me there was a brief moment when the doctor's thought she was bad, but she's okay. I was going to talk to her, but decided I'd go in tomorrow some time when she was awake and wouldn't make me feel bad about it."

Sam nodded, realizing she wasn't going to get away from Jack unless she was the one to leave, made a move to turn off her computer.

"Any way," his voice continued. "I just wanted to make sure everything went well here."

Again, Sam nodded. "Yeah, Martin and Danny took Teno about five minutes ago." Jack nodded silently, still watching her. "Is everything okay, Jack?"

"Are you okay?" He asked her in return, talking quietly as though he didn't want anyone to hear their conversation, which amused Sam given there was practically no-one left in the office.

"I asked you first, but yeah, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" She responded. "Are you still concerned that Martin's affecting my work?" She asked.

Great, already once today he had asked her – not straight out – whether she was okay or not, and she had lied to him. Of course Martin was affecting her, but not in the way that he thought. She knew he thought that she was upset about how they had worked out, and that was true. But how could she tell him that she was really 'not okay' because on the same day that he broke up with her, she went off and slept with his best friend?

"You just haven't been yourself these past couple of weeks." He merely shrugged.

Sam sighed. "Like I said to you this afternoon, I'm fine."

Jack nodded, but she knew he wasn't convinced. "Well, again, I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam watched him leave after parting compliments, thinking about what he'd said, before she herself picked up her things and headed out. Maybe she should just post a memo that stated that she would gladly shoot any person who again asked her if she was okay, after all, she had a gun and knew how to use it.

But of course, guns never solved anything, and more than likely she would wind up in jail, or on death row because she killed a federal agent. God, why did she have to work for the FBI?

Outside the office, a light drizzle was beginning. Sam groaned as she felt the moisture falling from the sky, knowing her hair would explode into a ball of fuzz.

"The sooner I get a cab and get home, the better." She said to herself, raising her arm on the curb and jumping in the first cab that stopped.

She hadn't been sitting on the sex-smelling back seat for more than five minutes when her phone rang. Oh and that was another thing, how was it that she was the one who ended up on call this weekend? She'd been on call for the past three weekends and she was sick of it. It was Friday night, all she wanted to do, was go home and either sleep or get very drunk, and spend the following two days recovering.

"Dammit; stupid job." She muttered under her breath, searching through her bag before finding the annoying article, flipping it open and answering it.

"Sam it's me," Jack's voice was urgent and worried. "There's been an accident."

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

It was like a bad dream, playing itself over and over in her mind. She was on the curb, staring at the bullet riddled car, and the blood-soaked material beside it – his blood.

As though she needed her life to be more painful, he was on his way to the hospital with three bullets in his body, two dangerously close to killing him, whilst Danny was sitting on the tray of the second ambulance, holding an ice pack to his head, and ignoring the medic who was trying to talk to him.

She already had her orders from Jack, to "find Dornvald", but how the hell was she meant to do that when the man she thought about every single moment of the day, could very possibly die without ever knowing the truth of how she felt about him.

Danny looked up and saw her, and she could see, from the way his expression changed, that he could see her pain. He could see she loved Martin so much more than she had ever imagined she could, and he could see that what had happened between them was an accident and not meant to be anything more than once.

Sam however, could see that he was wishing it was him who was swinging between life and death, and that Martin would be the one who would be hugging her, like he was about to do.

"I'm so sorry Sam." They were the only personal words she had allowed her brain to hear utter from his lips since she woke up that morning to see him lying naked in her bed.

He hugged her tightly, forcing her to cry, but she couldn't. Not here, not now, especially not now with all these people who saw her as strong and cold, and yet she did; three solemn tear drops leaked from her eyes and fell down her face.

"Get yourself to the hospital, Danny." She sniffed into his ear, evading his hold. "Get that head of yours checked out."

She didn't bother to earn a reply, turning on her heel, finding her car and heading back to the office, somehow managing to arrive safely, only to pound her fists into the steering wheel after she had parked, crying her heart out.

--§--

Just under twenty four hours later, Samantha was sitting in that small, antiseptic smelling room, staring at his face, willing his eyes to open. She'd lost track of how long she'd been sitting in that one same attitude, and although it felt like it had been hours, she was certain it was closer to half a one.

Every so often a nurse came in, picked up the chart at the end of his bed, and had a quick look at it, and then at the machines he was hooked up too. When they left they would glance at her, smile sadly, and move on.

Could they see her transgression? Could they see that she had performed the ultimate betrayal of him? Or were they telling her she was wasting her time, that he was a lost cause, better to leave then to hold onto indefinitely.

"He'll be okay." One of them had said, which at the time had meant the world to Samantha's heart, but ever since had been seen as cruel and gut-wrenching.

Eventually she felt her eyelids forcing themselves closed, and her head tipping forward. She recognized them as signs of fatigue, but she couldn't leave – she couldn't leave him.

"Sam?" His voice was hoarse and fractured. Initially she thought he had woken, but when the voice came again, harder and clearer, Sam turned to see Danny's face in the doorway. "Go home." He said – more as an order than a suggestion – to her quietly.

Sam shook her head, turning back to him. "I can't Danny. Not until I know he's alright." Ever since she had released a collection of tears onto his shoulder and onto her steering wheel, she had swallowed all saddening emotions, and now, they were threatening to spill again. But Sam knew she would be unable to hold them back.

Danny saw her eyes well up, knowing she was about to cry again. But before he had a chance to cross the room and hug her, she leaned her head onto the bed, interlocking her fingers with that of the man who lay unconscious on the bed, and cried onto the plain white sheets.

"Why won't you wake up? Please wake up, Martin." She sobbed quietly.

Danny didn't know whether to leave her there, recognizing the moment as one he wasn't meant to witness, whilst at the same time just wanting to help ease her pain. But as he continued to stand there watching her head and shoulders move in that painful rhythm to tear drops, he realized that her tears were not just about willing Martin to wake, but also in complete pain about what she had done to him. Okay so she had been dumped, but that still gave her no reason to go out and sleep with his best friend – him!

It was this realization that made Danny step backward from the room, and pull the door shut, leaving the heartbroken woman to cry to the man who, by all accounts should be fine, but had been so very close to death.

Outside the room Danny continued to look in, staring at the couple who he knew, and had known since he saw them that afternoon on the balcony, were meant to be together. He didn't know why he had such an epiphany when he didn't even know the full details, but Sam was a woman who had been scorned far too many times in relationships, and thus sought men who would treat her as such.

But Martin, he was so much different. For one thing he was someone who Sam would never normally be interested in, as he was always there, unlike her previous boyfriends. He was free of baggage, he was mentally able and ready to be in a relationship, and he was someone who gave loyalty to those he loved. Sam had struck gold, and probably because of her own nature she had lost him, only now to discover what a good thing she had.

Danny smiled to himself, in spite of everything that was going on in their lives, knowing that they would work everything out in the end, even if he had to help them out.

He pushed the memories of that night with Sam from his mind, forcing his brain to place them in the dreams area, before leaving the hospital, making a quick detour up to Vivian's room.

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	5. Chapter 5

_So, I'm not very happy with this chapter, I'm not sure why. I think it's because I find parts of it a little forced. Ah well, no matter what I say someone will enjoy it._

**Chapter Four**

Samantha stared at his face through the window. It was three day's since she was told he had woken up, and this was the first time she'd managed to find the strength to come and visit him. It didn't help that she had only that morning discovered that she couldn't hold off from seeing him for much longer.

Through the window she could see him smiling as he talked to his cousins and uncle. She remembered back after she had woken up from surgery after she was shot, the pain that still lingered (and the ache that came back from time to time) and the therapy that she had to undertake.

But this image was saddened when she remembered the discovery she had made that morning. She knew, the moment she uttered those words "I'm pregnant", he would probably be over the moon as she knew about his desire to have kids. But at the same time she was petrified.

How the in the name of Hell was she supposed to tell him that this baby she was carrying, might not be his; that it might be his best friends? How could she possibly live with herself if that turned out to be the case?

He'd never talk to her again, never want to see her face, or Danny's face, or anybody in the office's face.

Her line of thought, however, went dead when he turned his head and spotted her, his expression changing. He smiled weakly at her, and Samantha saw Roger and Allison turn to see what or who he was smiling at.

Jamie, however, was already making her way for the door, which initially petrified Sam as she had no idea what Martin had told them about their break-up.

"Hey Sam." She smiled at her, coming to a stop in front of Sam and turning to look back into the room. "I'm glad you're here. Marty's awake and ready for talking which is bad because dad's getting tired and needs a break."

Sam nodded weakly, smiling at the other woman. "I don't want to interrupt you all, though. Please, take your time. I can wait."

Jamie smiled, shaking her head. "You might be able too, but he can't." She looked at Sam through the corner of her eye, and Sam saw Roger, carrying Ava, and Allison leaving the room.

"She's grown so much." Sam breathed as she stared at Ava, wondering what her own child would look like at the same age.

Jamie smiled at Sam, looking over her shoulder as her fellow family members stopped behind her, both greeting Sam warmly. "Go talk to him, Sam." She instructed. "It's good to see you, again." She said, leading the other's off, as they too voiced their adieus.

Sam glanced back into the room and saw Martin watching her. He smiled as their lines of sight intercepted, making Sam smile in response.

This was going to be so hard.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked as she walked into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Martin nodded. "Good, well, I've been better." He shrugged, smiling.

Sam returned his smile, looking at the flowers she had in her arm. "I brought you some, um…" she indicated the flowers to him, which he nodded in response too.

"Thanks, but you know I prefer chocolates." He joked, causing her to chuckle lightly.

"Yeah, well I would have, but I don't want to get you into trouble." She set the flowers to aside and took a seat on the bed beside him. Martin watched her, curious of her presence, but glad of it.

A silence fell over them, Sam, trying to work out how to tell him her news, and Martin, well he didn't know what he wanted. He didn't want her to go, but at the same time he had no idea of what to say to her.

"How's work been going?" He finally asked her, in a tone that displayed completely his inability to find anything else decent to talk about.

Sam looked up at him blankly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Jack has me and Danny working our butts off with any case that comes in. The temp, Alexander Patterson, he's already looking forward to the day Viv gets back."

Martin nodded, looking away from her.

"Martin, remember, I've been through what you're going through–"

"When were you shot in an ambush?" He interrupted.

Sam sighed. "I was shot, in the thigh, remember? About two years ago? I'm saying I know about how long it's going to take you to get back."

"What makes you think I'll take the same amount of time as you?" He snapped.

"Martin, I never said that. For all I know you may take a considerably less amount of time to recover than I did, or a much longer time, I don't know – and anyway, I didn't come here to argue."

Martin held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I'm just getting sick of seeing the same four walls; the same nurses every day."

Sam patted his hand comfortingly. "I know." She whispered quietly, before looking at their hands.

Another silence fell over them, but this time, Sam wanted to be the one to break it. All she had to do, was build up the right amount of courage.

"I have something to tell you." She began in a hurry.

Martin shrugged, rolling his head to look at her on the pillow. "Shoot…pardon the pun." He smiled, showing Sam, what she was certain would be the last time, his gorgeous dimples, again making what she needed to tell him that much harder.

"Martin, I'm…I'm pregnant." She spoke quietly, wishing he hadn't heard. But he had, given how he tried to sit up the moment she finished speaking, and his smile fell to show a facial expression of shock.

"Whe-, I mean, how long?" He asked.

Sam looked to his face, and tried to do the mental arithmetic. "A few weeks, but Martin, it might not be yours." Immediately she wished she could take those words back, as he fell back onto the bed, his face, his eyes, his lips, his body, all appearing to go cold and rigid. "I'm so sorry Martin, I wish I could take it back-" she began, jumping off the bed and stepping away before he interrupted her.

"Who?" He asked quietly.

"Pardon?"

"Who?" He demanded, he had to know who had destroyed this moment.

Sam swallowed, hard. She couldn't tell him the truth, it would crush him. _He thinks it could be Jack's _her mind kept repeating. Again, how the hell was she supposed to tell him that the father of this newly discovered life, could very possibly be the same person who had survived the ambush with a light concussion and a few cuts and bruises.

It just wasn't fair.

"Sam, who else was there?" His voice was angry, and for a moment Sam thought he was about to cry.

_No, I can't tell him. He can't know the truth._

"I," her voice fractured, and she knew she was at breaking point. This was so much harder than she anticipated. _Well 'der' _those little voices in her head were beginning to annoy her.

"I have to go." She grabbed her bag that she had left beside the flowers, knocking them to the floor in the process, as she left the room, barely holding it together until she found the nearest restroom and locked herself in a cubicle.

--§--

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	6. Chapter 6

_Ahhh, how I love reviews. They're such, such an ego boost – what is this, a needle before me? No, no, I promise I'll be humble, never allow my head to fill! – thank you all who have reviewed for doing so._

**Chapter Five**

Her cell rang three times.

Samantha lay in a ball on her bed, feeling tears trickle down the side of her face and onto her pillow.

Why had she told him? Why had she gone to the hospital to tell him she was pregnant but possibly not too him? Why hadn't she just waited, got a paternity test first before she broke the news.

Oh yes, that was right, because then she would have to tell Danny as well, and that was one conversation she had absolutely no intention of having.

Somehow they were managing to maintain a civil relationship, only conversing when something to do with the case at hand came up, but no longer were they sharing the little quips that had previously filled the silences between them.

She heard her cell's ring-tone start for the fourth time, and like the previous three, she had no intention of answering. If Jack or someone stopped by to check she was alive she would just say she left her phone in the kitchen when she went to bed. It's a simple lie and she didn't care if she got found out.

But immediately her thoughts returned to Martin's face. What had she done? It no longer mattered if this baby turned out to be his because he would still know that she had cheated on him, despite the fact that the other person she had been with was after they broke up.

_Why the hell did I have to sleep with Danny the night Martin ended it?_ She thought to herself angrily. _And why the hell did I have to sleep with Danny, at all!_

Everything was a mess, just the way Samantha Spade used to like it. Martin had changed her, _damn him for that – no, don't damn him for that – no do, aargh! I don't know what I want anymore_ she thought, before scrunching up her eyes and crying again.

And just when Samantha really wanted to be alone, she heard the repeated knocking at her door. Initially, she remained in the ball on her bed, unmoving. But she hated her apartment, how someone knocking at the front door always echoed around, and whoever was at her door seemed to know this, or knew she was inside and wasn't letting up.

After ignoring the pounding at her door, Sam finally moved, wiping the tears from her eyes, stumbling to her front door, before peeking through the small hole.

_Damn it! Why does it have to be _him

She didn't want to open the door now; she didn't want him to be in the place where they had enacted the ultimate betrayal.

"Sam, let me in!" His voice demanded, evidently he'd been looking at the crack between the door and the floorboards and seen her shadow.

_Why did I leave the lights on?_

"What do you want?" She asked, finally opening the door, but not moving to allow him in.

Danny sighed in front of her, seeing how red and puffy her eyes were, knowing she'd been crying. "You didn't answer your cell, and we have a case." He responded.

"I'm not feeling well," which was the truth. "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to call Jack with that news, now you've saved me a phone call. I'll see you tomorrow." She tried to shut the door on him, but he struck out his hand, not allowing Sam to shut him out.

"I also happened to visit Martin this morning." Immediately Sam went cold, feeling her body freeze and stiffen. "And I happened to learn some unfortunate news." He had stepped close to her, lowering his voice.

Sam held up her head, staring him down. So he knew she was pregnant, so what? She had no intention of letting him into her apartment when all she currently wanted to do was cry out her heart before finding some way of earning Martin's forgiveness.

"Is it true?" He whispered, his face millimeters from hers.

Sam refused to break, but she felt the pain of guilt return. "So what if it is? I don't need your sympathy."

Danny backed away from her, stunned. "My sympathy?" He gasped, before returning to his previous menacing position, and this time, managing to get Sam to back away, allowing him entrance to her apartment, and a chance to allow this conversation to pass privately. "You're pregnant, and there is every possibility that it's mine. And no matter what you do, if that turns out to be true, I want to be a part of its life!"

Sam stared at him, before turning away, wanting to escape, wanting, more than anything to have a drink, get drunk and not have to worry about the consequences. _Hold it, Samantha. Last time you were drunk in Danny's presence, things happened that right now you wish hadn't._

"What if I don't want it?" Sam retorted, managing to enter the kitchen and pull a bottle of water from her fridge.

"If you didn't want this kid, Sam, you wouldn't have told Martin. You would have immediately booked a time for an abortion." Sam stared at him horrified.

"Is that what you think I would do? Is that truly who you think I am?" She barked at him, placing the bottle on the bench and stepping towards him.

Danny sighed, hanging his head, remembering a time, many years ago, when she had told him she could only have an abortion if she was raped, otherwise she'd give the kid up for adoption unless she was desperately in love with the father and knew he loved her; but that was unlikely as she'd had her heart broken too many times to allow it to love someone again.

"No." He responded quietly.

"Then why did you think it!" She exclaimed, stepping close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Damn it, Sam, I was angry!" He responded.

Sam nodded, unconvinced but not feeling in the mood to keep up the argument. Her mind wandered to another issue, that being the one Danny had first spoken of. "What did you tell Martin?" She asked him.

Danny looked up at her. "About us?" Sam looked at him, earning a scoff. "You think I would honestly tell him that I'm the other guy?" He countered.

"What else could I think?" She asked him moving away, wanting more water.

"I'm sorry, Sam. But that conversation is one you're going to have to have with him." He said quietly, taking a seat in one of her sofas.

Sam stopped in the doorway, turning and looking at him. Danny was watching her, and saw the expression on her face, and knew their arguing was over. Now was the time for advice to be given.

"How am I supposed to tell him?" She asked him quietly. "You're his best friend. That's the ultimate betrayal. I was his girlfriend. It may hurt you to hear this, but I love him."

"I know you do." Danny interrupted. "And I know it's reciprocated. Letting the part about me slip by, tell him it was an accident after you broke up. Tell him it was a few weeks after."

"A few weeks after would be now." Sam interrupted quietly.

Danny hung his head, walking up to her and resting his hands on her shoulders. "It's either that or you tell him the whole truth, and everyone gets hurt."

Sam sighed knowing he was right. _Go Samantha! Tell him! Just, re-gain your courage first. _Sam thought, before immediately remembering why she hated her conscience.

--§--

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	7. Chapter 7

_Just a note: I was planning to jump from the last chapter to 'present day'. But then I realized that I wasn't giving a chance to show Martin's reaction to Sam's news. So, here is that, and whether the next update is 'present day' or not, I'll decide when I write it._

_Oh, and I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update. DVD's, they're a wonderful distraction.__  
_

**Chapter Six**

"Steady now, Marty. You heard what Dr. Nolan said about taking it easy." Jaime spoke, helping Martin attempt to stand.

"Yeah, I heard her." Martin sighed, wincing slightly as he leant forward, testing his hip. "I also know that she doesn't know specifically how I'm feeling."

Jaime looked up at him. "Maybe not, but she knows what she's talking about. Didn't you say she treated Samantha as well?" At Samantha's name, Martin audibly gasped, falling the small distance he had risen back to the bed, his breathing heavy. "See?" Jaime said, not realizing the true reason he was back on the bed.

Martin didn't respond. Ever since Sam told him she was pregnant, everything in his mind was a blur as it raced. Evidently no-one else on the team knew about it, given his conversation with Danny earlier that morning. But what was really bugging him, was the look that had come across Danny's face when he had told him Sam was pregnant. At first he had put it down to being shock, after all, the relationship the two of them shared was similar to that of a brother and sister.

But after Danny had left, he had started thinking, after all, Sam had admitted that he might not be the father, and although he was still certain only Jack could be 'the other man', there was also a niggling part of him that would suspect anyone. And as that small section of his mind took over thinking, he started remembering back to his last few weeks in the office, the silence that had developed.

Then he had only been concentrating on the silences he and Sam were sharing, but as he thought about Sam and Danny, he realized that they too hadn't been as talkative with each other as they usually were; also, he remembered how he would occasionally catch Danny watching him with the same expression, but what, he had never been able to make out.

Then his brain through up the remotest of possibilities, that the reason for these silences was that it was _Danny _who was the other man.

He could remember laughing out loud at that conclusion, but even though he had dismissed it as definite falsehood, his mind wouldn't, constantly going back to it and once again analyzing everything that had brought him there.

"Marty?" Jaime's voice broke through Martin's train of though, and as he turned his head quickly to look at her, realized she had been speaking to him for a while. "Are you okay?"

Martin dropped his head. He didn't even know how he had managed to keep Sam's pregnancy from her for so long. "Sam's pregnant." He said quietly.

With his head still lowered, and his eye line looking in the opposite direction, he didn't see the brightness come to Jaime's face. "Well that's great." She spoke. "Isn't it?" She added, after noting his forlorn appearance.

"If it was great, why would I be like this?" He retorted, turning to look at her, giving her a good look at the pain in his eyes.

"Marty, I don't know what to say. A few months ago you were fantasizing about what it would be like to have kids with her-"

"Hypothetically." Martin interrupted heatedly, earning Jaime to raise her hands in surrender. "That was also before I realized the truth about her." He didn't look at her as he said this.

"Marty?" She asked quietly.

"She cheated on me. I don't know with who; but whoever it was, they may be the father." He spoke, dropping his head again.

Jaime's eyes fluttered closed as she too dropped her head. Those few months ago, when Martin was fantasizing about settling down with her, was a few days after he had brought her to dinner. That night had been a happy one, and despite Sam being visually flustered about sitting down to a family meal with his family, Jaime had seen what she recognized as love coming from her late into the evening when she started dropping her guard, talking more, joining in the family banter, and just being happy.

Afterwards, she, along with the rest of her family, expected more nights of Sam's presence, but instead they were met with apologies when Martin would arrive. Not long after that stories about them fighting started to emerge, and Sam even called their house a couple of times looking for Martin, and even then she didn't speak for long. Then, just over one month previously, Martin announced they were over, and now, to top off everything, Sam was pregnant, and the father was uncertain.

But Martin's face was often a very open book, and right now, Jaime was getting the distinct impression that despite his statement that he was unsure who the father was, a part of him did. She swallowed, and prepared herself for his reaction to what she was about to say.

"Marty, not long after we first met Sam, you mentioned that she'd had an affair with your boss before you joined the team, and her lingering feelings meant she'd never give you a chance." She spoke slowly, taking a seat in the chair beside his bed. Martin didn't respond or cut her off like she was expecting him too, so she continued. "Do you think she went back to him?" There, she'd asked him.

Martin shook his head, but there was no glaring or anger in his movements which surprised her. "No, part of me thought it, but another idea, a much worse one overpowered it." He answered, looking up at her. "Either way, even if I do turn out to be the father, mom's been on my back since I woke up to continue my recovery in D.C, and I'm thinking about taking her up on it."

This _did _surprise Jaime. After all, she knew of the strained relationship between Martin and his parents, especially his mother. "But, why?" Was all she could manage to say.

"Almost losing her only son proved to remind her how well she knows me and she wants a chance to get to know me again." He responded, without a trace of remorse in his voice.

"Are you sure she won't just revert to old ways, trying to marry you off to Andrea Price?" Jaime asked, with a hint of mockery in her voice.

This Martin laughed at. "I asked that of mom, and she said 'don't worry. Andrea's in Tibet with her female companion.'" Martin contorted his face as he attempted to impersonate his mother.

Jaime's draw dropped. "She's gay?"

Martin nodded, the happiness in his face lasting a moment or so after that before once again his face dropped. "I can't stay around here and attempt to patch things up with Sam when I know what she's capable of." He said.

"But what about the child? If it's yours-" Jaime asked.

"I'll be there, offer whatever assistance I can. But Sam and I can't be together now."

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	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven**

_Present Day_

Samantha sat at the kitchen table watching Sophie do her homework. It wasn't just because her daughter had initially asked for her help regarding the seven-times-table, but in these moments of silence, other than the scratching of the pen in her daughter's hand and the occasional question asked and answered, Sam thought about the ramifications of her actions from so many years earlier.

She thought about when it was revealed that Danny was the father of this now beautiful little girl sitting before her, and then to how her colleagues and fellow agents reacted. It seemed that the moment word got out that she was pregnant, and to Danny Taylor, everyone turned against her. She could still, even to this very day, remember hearing conversations in the ladies room that she wasn't meant to hear;

"_Wait a minute, wasn't she dating Fitzgerald?"_

"_Yeah I thought she was too. But you saw her and Taylor together, always flirting, and have you ever noticed how he calls her hot stuff?"_

"_No I hadn't, but I just remembered, that old rumour that she was sleeping with her SAC, Jack Malone."_

"_Ugh, Fitzgerald and Taylor, now they're good taste but Malone…"_

To Sam, it had seemed like everyone around her was whispering. At first, she thought she could handle it; ignore it just like she used to, but in the end she realized all she had done was bottle the pain, and not move on and learn from it.

And now, here she was, working as a receptionist at Mason and Walker; Attorney's at Law, and raising a daughter who was fathered by a man that truthfully, she could not, and would never love.

"Mommy, how many 7's go into 42?" Sophie looked up at her mother, who was staring out the window, her mind racing with thoughts that had kept her awake all of the previous night; Martin was back.

"Hmm, sorry?" Sam turned to her daughter after realizing she had been addressed.

"How many 7's go into 42?" The little girl asked again.

To date, both Sam and Danny were perplexed. Two successful FBI Agents surely could produce a daughter with characteristics similar to their parents; reading people, and recognizing when something was wrong with someone. So far, Sophie appeared to be at a loss for such abilities, which secretly pleased both her parents, who, knowing what dangers their job's had, didn't want their daughter to follow in their footprints.

Sam looked at her daughter, then tilted her gaze towards the table, in particular to a multiplication table resting just above the page Sophie was working on. "Why do you ask me such questions when the answer's right in front of you?" Sam asked, leaning back in her chair and smirking at her daughter.

"The answer's six; I just wanted to see if you knew that." Sophie responded, looking back at the page and resuming her work.

"Why did you want to see if I knew my seven-times-tables?" Sam asked, leaning forward in the chair and leaning her chin against her hands.

"Because Mr. Tellerman told us that most of our parents don't know their times-tables so we should test them." The young girl responded.

"Mr. Tellerman?" Sam asked, her brain kicking into agent mode. "This being the same Mr. Tellerman who told your father at the last parents-night that most parents don't realize their children are smarter than them?"

Sophie looked up at her mother and shrugged, before the thudding of footsteps sounded down the hallway, indicating Danny's return from the shower. "Hey." He greeted as he entered the kitchen, heading straight for the glasses cupboard, and then to the tap.

"Apparently Mr. Arnold Tellerman's purge on parental intelligence has taken a much more subtle turn, but still with the same objective." Sam announced as Danny walked behind her.

"Really?" Danny asked, sounding half interested.

"Apparently, well according to this one," she pointed to Sophie as Danny turned to face them; "most parents don't know their times-tables."

Danny nodded behind Sam who couldn't see him, but winking at his daughter. "I can understand that. Of course, most parents are not current or former Federal Officer's, so therefore intelligence is limited." He stated simply, ignoring Sam's look, instead walking up behind his daughter and peeping at her work.

"49 is seven seven's, not 48." He commented, before moving to leave the room. Sam rolled her eyes, before noting that her husband had gone. Leaving her daughter to continue her work she followed him down the hallway into their room, finding him collapsing onto the bed, face first.

"Is something wrong?" She asked from the doorway.

From the bed Danny shrugged, not rolling over.

"Danny. You've hardly spoken to me all day, and whenever you talk to Sophie you sound as though you're on your deathbed." She stated, closing the door so that Sophie couldn't hear the potential argument that was about to erupt.

Danny rolled over and stared at her, and as she returned his gaze, she could see the whites of his eyes tinged with redness, as though he'd been crying for ours. "That's a stupid question, because you already know the answers." He retorted harshly.

Sam stared at him furiously, unable to comprehend what he was talking about before it hit her; this was about Martin. "Martin? Tell me this isn't about him, please."

"I know you love him, Sam. I know how upset you were when you found out Sophie wasn't his, that you had no reason to fight for him, and I know how reluctant you were to marry me."

"Oh don't start this again." Sam retorted, interrupting him. "You weren't pushing me, and don't you dare criticize who I love, because I'm pretty sure you don't love me either."

Danny dropped his head, and both of them hated where this conversation could only go. For seven years they had barely spoken about the issues revolving around their marriage, but both knew that if they came up, heated words would be said that would be difficult to forgive.

"You know Martin's reaction when he found out that you were the other man. I was there, remember. I saw his anger, and what it did to you." Sam remembered back to that horrible night. Martin had been in DC recovering for almost three months. Sam and Danny were heading to her apartment after an ultrasound and discussing their options, knowing the truth. Neither knew Martin was around the hallway corner, having heard enough. Neither could have been prepared for the showing of anger they received – breaking Danny's arm and leaving him with a bruised lung, and a cracked rib. The memory of it made them both shudder.

"You also should remember why I didn't press charges." Danny retorted, instantly regretting it.

"You weren't retaliating, and we've moved away from the point. And that, I'm afraid to say, is that you think, I'm going to run away with him, and take your daughter with me. I may be selfish, but for heaven's sake, don't for one minute believe I would do anything to ruin my daughter's happiness."

"And you believe that her happiness is being around two parents who don't love one another?" Danny retorted staring up at her.

Sam inwardly moaned; they hardly ever argued and when they did hundreds of insecurities flew out of each others mouths. A shrink would have so much fun with them. "I believe that Sophie needs to be with her parents. If I didn't believe that, you and I wouldn't be married, and I would have moved somewhere in the world where I knew I couldn't be found by anyone from my past." She sent him one final look and left the room, returning to the kitchen and finding Sophie, still working on her homework, but now with the radio on, her head bouncing to the beat.

How life could be cruel. Sam knew Danny had half a point in criticizing their marriage, but what was she supposed to do? Both she and Danny had grown up in families where a parent was either missing or abusive or drunk or ignorant of their children's needs. Of course, Danny also had the bonus factor of a coke-addicted older brother, whilst Sam just had a sister who was raped. Bringing Sophie into the world was for both, an opportunity to move on from the past. Whilst Danny was already once again re-connecting with his brother, Sam made an effort to contact her sister (thank god for the Government, otherwise Sam never would have found her).

But seven years later, and both were feeling that the many cracks that had come with their marriage were no closer to mending, but in fact, they had widened.

Sam left the kitchen and walked out into the backyard, taking a seat on the step, hugging herself whilst looking up to the smog-covered city. This life, this wound in this marriage needed to be stitched, but only the band-aids were in reach.

--§--

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	9. Chapter 9

_Okay, so I definitely need to update this more often. I'm really sorry to all of you who have been hanging out for an update all this time. Eventually I will learn what time is._**  
**

**Chapter Eight**

Danny as usual had left for work early that morning, but Sam didn't care. She had long since realized that their marriage was never going to be the fairytale she had imagined it could be when she was still old enough to have dreams of happiness.

As per usual, Sam awoke to find Sophie watching morning cartoons, having already eaten her breakfast before her father left, and now was waiting for her mom to finish getting her ready for school.

After sending her daughter off to brush her teeth and get dressed, Sam acquainted herself with the only thing Danny ever made her: Coffee; despite the fact that as per usual it was his thick sludge with more coffee than water. But she had since grown used to the mud (especially when there was a Starbucks on her way into the office).

Half an hour later, Sophie was sitting on the arm of the sofa, her arms crossed across her chest, taping one of her feet against the floorboards, whilst Sam rushed about the house, getting the last of her things.

"Honestly Mom!" Sophie exclaimed as Sam headed toward her, car keys in hand.

"Smart with me and Lisa can't stay over this weekend." Sam chided mockingly, bundling her daughter out the door and into the car, chuckling at the look of horror on her daughter's features.

As per usual, the shop with a green front that was known globally for its coffee prowess, stood near empty as Sam walked in the front door later that morning. Inhaling the pungent and sweet aromas of the various blends of coffee, she mentally imagined herself, throwing her hair around as all models do in hair-care advertisements, but falling into the dark temptation of the barista before her.

She didn't even bother looking up at the menu behind the counter, already knowing what she wanted, and thus, striding up to the boy who always made Sam feel as though she were in an episode of _The Simpson's._

One Double Tall, skinny latte with two shots and extra cream.

Every time she said that order, she always couldn't help mentally wondering why she even bothered having a skinny latte with extra cream. What was the point of dieting if you were just going to cut corners?

Still, taking a seat in one of the plush couches, and pulling a magazine from her bag and immediately flicking to the Sudoku, Sam allowed herself to be lost to the world of coffee.

It wasn't long however before she had the distinct impression that she was being watched. At first she let the feeling slide, after all, she was in a public coffee house. But still, the prickly feeling at the back of her neck would not die, and eventually Sam allowed her head to rise and search for whoever felt she deserved to be watched.

That's when she saw his profile.

She hadn't seen him in six or seven years, and was surprised by the lack of change in his posture – surely he would have at least managed to relax a little bit…._hold it, Spade. This is Martin we're talking about. Martin, the King of Relaxation beside your Ice Queen?_

Once again Sam kicked herself mentally for at these moments, always finding her personality to split.

Martin glanced in her direction, and upon seeing her staring at him, turned around and fled the shop.

Sam didn't know whether to run after him or stay where she was. After a moment something kicked in that brought her to her feet and force her to stride from the shop, leaving her coffee still sitting on the table she had vacated.

However, once on the street, all Sam saw were a flurry of coats, jackets, blank expressions and the rears of people's heads. Scanning her eyes repeatedly along the street, Sam sighed, realizing he'd gone, and turning back to the seat she had left, saw her coffee cup gone.

Sighing out of frustration, Sam glanced at her watch; realized she was almost going to be late for work, and bolted two doors down the street, into a lobby and then an elevator, and up to the 14th floor, and was behind her desk, still holding in pants, when her boss walked past, as per usual ignoring her, and disappearing into her office.

"Why do I even bother? She wouldn't notice even if I was late." Sam said to herself under her breath.

But hours, and a lot of phone calls later, Sam still couldn't get the image of Martin's silhouette from her mind, and decided she needed to see him, and hopefully, once and for all, settle all accounts she held with him. Seven years was too long to hold a grudge, and too long to hold onto false hope.

---

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	10. Chapter 10

_Apparently this chapter is 8 pages long……I feel proud!_

**Chapter Nine**

The receptionist was surprisingly helpful. Maybe it was because she didn't have a badge to intimidate him with, but it took less time for her to cross up to the 12th floor of this hotel than when she was an FBI agent.

But now, as the elevator doors opened to reveal a long hallway of Las Vegas style décor, Samantha didn't care. It had taken her longer than expected to reach this destination during her lunch hour, and now she only had thirty minutes until she had to get back. Talking was going to have to be done quickly.

With the room number still imprinted on her mind, she headed along the hallway, stepping past the employees, and occasional guests. The door she eventually came across was not unlike any other, and pausing for breath, she rapped her knuckles gently against the wood.

From within she could hear the scuffles of someone heading towards the door, and as that sound echoed in her ears, she felt her heart pick up.

Seven years. It had been seven years since she'd seen him last, and that last time had not been a pleasant experience.

_Her stomach was churning, but it wasn't because of her hormones, or her emotions, or anything else that was smart. No, it was the tuna salad she ate on the plane. Of all things, she had to get food poisoning before she was to see him._

_Repeatedly swallowing and downing water, she power-walked off the plane and to the nearest bathroom just in time for her guts to pour out. _

_Ten minutes of repulsion, and once again she felt like hell. She had been feeling so good this morning; and she knew it was too good to be true!_

_Now how the hell was she supposed to talk to him, deal with the fact that she was pregnant to Danny – god why did she have to be such an idiot for sleeping with him!_

_Feeling her stomach begin to return to normal, she hit the flush button and escaped the cubicle. A short middle-aged woman offered her a paper towel. "It may be bad now, but after it's born, you won't care." The woman smiled at her._

_Sam accepted the paper towel, before glancing down at the obvious bump. "Oh, no. This isn't hormones. I ate something on the plane I shouldn't have." She responded, swallowing some handfuls of water, before dabbing her face with the towel._

_The woman continued to smile at her. "Still, when you hold that baby for the first time, you won't care about how you were sick every morning, or how bad your back ached; only that for the first time in your life, you truly know what love feels like." She gently placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, before exiting the bathroom, leaving Sam to ponder those thoughts, whilst cradling her bump._

_Was what the woman said true? Perhaps, but Samantha also knew one other thing; she did know what true love felt like, because she had already lost him._

_Taking another piece of paper towel and drying her face, Samantha left the bathroom, and the airport, and headed for the one house in all of the US that she never, _ever _thought she would visit – the Deputy Director of the FBI._

--§--

_Every house the cab drove past told Samantha the same story; old money. Every house in the Fitzgerald family neighborhood had to have been built very early in the previous century, if not earlier. Every house oozed the possibility of housing names such as Kennedy, Van Der Bilt, Roosevelt, etc. _

_And then the cab rounded another corner, and Samantha was stunned. It reminded her of houses she used to look at in books when she was a child – great palatial mansions with so many floors, windows and balcony's it was as though it was right out of a Jane Austen novel._

_But the cab continued to drive past it; causing Sam to fall back against the seat._

"_Yeah they're rich out here; every wife has some involvement in a charity, and every husband is a politician. You won't find any Hiltons here." The driver commented._

"_I think a Hilton would make this place less dream-like." Sam responded, glancing out the window again as the cab slowed to a stop._

_The house was not unlike the others, extended porch, red-brick veneer, colonial style columns, and surrounded by flora of all colors. What was surprising to Samantha, was the lack of evident security surrounding the house. _

_This was the home of Victor Fitzgerald; a man of extreme power and political influence, yet the only thing holding anyone back, was the low brick wall-fence._

_Samantha paid the cabby, and was about to shut the door when he spoke; "No offence or anything, but you don't look like the type of girl to come from one of these families."_

_Sam smiled sadly at him. "I'm not, and never had any intention of being one. There's just someone who lives here that I need to settle something with." _

_He nodded to her stomach, cocking his eyebrows at the same time._

_Sam shook her head; "If it were, I'm pretty sure you would have heard about it by now."_

_He nodded smiling, allowing her to shut the door before driving off._

_Here she was, practically on his doorstep, and suddenly absolutely petrified of facing him. Yet she refused to give up, and looping her arm through the small bag she had brought, she began the trek to the house._

_After what seemed like an eternity of walking into hell (or so her mother would have put it) Sam finally reached the front door, and after waiting a few moments to catch her breath, which she couldn't recall loosing, she pressed a finger to the doorbell, and waited._

_Almost as though someone had been on the other side, watching her all the way up to this point, the door burst open, revealing a young Latino woman, who looked as though she had been given the task of cleaning the attic – she was that covered in dust._

"_May I help you?" The woman asked, as though it were completely normal for one to greet another whilst covered from head to toe in dust._

"_I wanted to speak with Martin, if that's possible?" Sam stated, her eyes darting past the woman before her, and into the room behind; a marble staircase, many flower vases, filled with multi-colored roses…_

"_Certainly, he's in the library. Follow me." The woman's voice stopped Sam from seeing anymore._

_Of course what Sam had also neglected to observe was the eyeing the woman gave her, especially her stomach. But as Sam was lead into the house, and seeing every ornate item that she knew Martin had grown up around, suddenly she hated herself for always thinking that as the only son of a wealthy family he must have had a wonderful upbringing. Now, she continued to see a young Martin, running down the stairs and being chastised for potentially breaking things, and as a teen, having to live up to a demanding family heritage._

_At the top of the stairs, Sam was forced to stop as she came upon the largest artwork she had ever seen in her life. And all it was, was a portrait of a man sitting in a high backed chair, looking to the side of the canvas._

_The woman noticed Sam had stopped, and as she looked on to what Sam was staring at, she spoke. "Gideon Fitzgerald; drinking buddy of Benjamin Franklin, and the family claim the man who gave Franklin his many ideas for the Declaration of Independence." The woman winked at Samantha, smiling weakly._

_Sam sighed in response. "The Fitzgerald family; the know how to influence those in power despite never holding the full mantle." _

_The woman looked at her curiously, before leading her on, but they were stopped when they heard loud voices echoing from the stairs._

"_No mother I will not!" Sam immediately recognized Martin's voice._

"_Martin, please. Virginia needs an escort. You two were such friends in school." Martin's mother's voice responded._

"_We were in the fourth grade." _

"_Please Martin. You have been in Washington for the past three months; saying your still recovering is just not true as already you can manage without your cane. And you've been so miserable. Virginia is an incredibly attractive girl-"_

"_Who you just want me to be friends with, because I'm thirty-two years old and I don't have a steady girlfriend or a wife." Martin's voice came over the top of his mother's, and it was at that point that Samantha found herself staring at the man she so desperately wanted to talk to._

"_Martin please!" His mother followed Martin into view, but didn't seem to notice Samantha, or the dust-covered maid._

_Martin however stood frozen, staring at Samantha, and slowly his face turning a shade of red Sam had only seen once, at the same time that she saw his fists pummel into Danny._

"_Martin?" His mother still hadn't noticed the two new members of the conversation, and it wasn't until it registered that Martin was staring _at _people did she turn her gaze. "Louisa, I thought I told you to dust the photo albums." She stated with a hint of aggression towards Samantha's companion, before turning her attention to Sam herself._

_Louisa nodded her head quickly and darted away, but Samantha still felt as though she was being thoroughly assessed by Victor Fitzgerald's wife._

"_Who are you?" The older woman eventually asked._

"_Ah mom, can you give us a moment." Martin suddenly awoke from his state of ice, placing a hand on his mother's arm._

"_Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" Suddenly her tone was happy and bright, and Sam could only assume that 'Virginia' had just flown out of her mind. But she was still feeling uncomfortable as the woman approached her._

"_No, we're not together."_

"_She's not my girlfriend."_

_Both of them spoke at once, leaving Mrs. Fitzgerald to look between the two of them, then once again to Samantha's belly. "Then explain the baby?" She looked from Martin to Samantha, and then back to Martin._

"_Mom, please. Just give us a minute." Martin said again, this time evidently trying to push his mother away._

_She seemed to take the hint, taking a few quick steps away, throwing her hands up in the air and disappearing. "Your father will want to know about this." She said as she disappeared down the stairs._

_Sam noticed Martin visually bite his lip, suppressing whatever comment was about to pop out._

_After the sounds of his mother's shoe-click disappearing, Martin finally spoke. "I thought I made it clear I never wanted to see you again." He stated quietly, pushing past her._

"_Yeah, I got that impression, except you still haven't heard me out." Sam retorted, following him._

"_What is there for you to explain?" He questioned, turning on her harshly. "You slept with my best friend; he got you pregnant, I don't give a damn how sorry you are, you performed the ultimate betrayal." He shouted at her quietly, poking her in the shoulder._

_Sam was stung. "You think I meant for it to happen? You think that I planned on being dumped by you; the guy who I had actually fallen in love with?" She retorted, following Martin as he turned and strode down the hallway._

"_I told you, I don't care about you anymore, and I'm not apologizing to Danny. Yes I may have reacted badly, but Samantha;" hearing him call her 'Samantha' immediately prevented Sam's feet from continuing. "What would you have done, if you found out I slept with your best friend?" _

_Samantha couldn't reply; she was frozen. Hearing the hatred in his voice that was directed squarely at her was unbearable, and with her hormones raging, she immediately recognized the taste of tears in her mouth._

_Martin took her silence and nodded. "Now please, would you kindly get yourself out of this house, before I call the police." And with that, he turned, entered a room, and slammed the door shut._

Samantha shook her head, removing the memory of their last meeting from her mind, and set herself for blocking the door, should Martin intend on slamming it in her face again. But then, she found herself not staring at the face of a man, but rather a woman with short light brown hair, small eyes and a nose that Sam immediately decided she wanted.

"Who are you?" The woman asked her.

"I think I have the wrong room, I was looking for a Martin Fitzgerald." Sam responded, suddenly her brain in overdrive. Had she noted the wrong room number?

"Oh, no he's meeting his uncle for lunch. And you didn't answer my question." Sam paused, momentarily eyeing this woman. She couldn't see her left hand so she couldn't determine what relationship she had just discovered, but already she could only assume this was Martin's wife.

"I'm Samantha. Martin and I are old friends. I heard he was in town and just wanted to see him, catch up, you know." Sam spoke, FBI agent engaging in discussion and beginning act.

The woman shook her head. "He's never told me he lived in New York before."

Sam suddenly felt a light weight leave her shoulders. Martin obviously hadn't told her what had happened between them. "I should correct myself; we worked together for three years, then he moved back to D.C and we haven't spoken since."

The woman nodded. "Well I'll tell him that you stopped by." She smiled weakly.

"That won't be necessary." Both women turned at the sounds of Martin's voice.

Maybe it was because of the other woman, but Sam was surprised that there was no sign of hatred showing on Martin's features. Maybe seven years had eased his anger, and now he just felt indifference towards her; certainly then at least Sam could talk to him and be heard.

"Samantha." Martin nodded towards her, stepping towards them, to Sam's new acquaintance, sliding an arm around her waist. "I see you've met Julie."

"I need to talk to you." Sam spoke. "There are a couple of things that you need to know, that you wouldn't let me say last time we spoke."

"I thought you said you hadn't spoken since he moved." Julie spoke.

Sam gritted her teeth before Martin responded. "We haven't. We just bumped into each other one day just after I moved; we haven't spoken since."

Julie looked at Martin, and immediately Sam could sense that there was going to be a choice discussion between these two regarding Martin's lie. "You never told me you lived in New York."

Martin shrugged. "They weren't happy memories." He spoke directly at Sam.

Sam bit her lip, before responding. "I'm not the pregnant and highly emotional woman I was then. You hate me, fine. I still need for you to give me just five minutes."

Martin shrugged, before looking down to Julie. "Could you give us five minutes?" He asked her quietly.

Julie shrugged, stepping back into the room and grabbing a sweater. "Five minutes will be plenty of time for me to organize a choice discussion topic." She placed a fake sweet smile on her lips and headed off down the hallway.

Martin looked to Samantha, and the anger that Sam was surprised to see missing was once again evident. "Are you happy now?" He asked, turning his back on Sam and walking into the room, Sam following him closely.

"Getting a chance to talk to you without having a door slammed in my face, yeah. About revealing a lie you gave your wife, no not really." Sam retorted.

"What do you want anyway? I told you, I don't want to see you again." He took a bottle of water from the bar fridge and downed a couple of mouthfuls.

Sam paused, taking a breath and composing herself before she started.

"Well speak!" Martin demanded.

"I loved you! I just didn't realize how much I did until you ended things. I left the office in tears that night, got drunk. I thought I was calling you, telling you I needed you. Danny showed up, I wasn't concentrating. And you can not begin to imagine how many times in the past seven years, I have so desperately wanted to take that night back." Sam shouted.

"What about your daughter?" Martin questioned, taking a step towards her.

Sam shook her head slowly. "I love my daughter more than anything else in this world. Whilst taking back that night would remove her from my life, when I have those thoughts, the following one was how much I wish she were yours."

Martin didn't respond, just smiled angrily and walked away from her. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The night you were shot, when I was told, I was told that you were in bad shape, and all that went through my mind was how if you died, I was certain part of me would die too. And then I found out I was pregnant, and part of me was so excited because it was yours, then I remembered Danny, and everything sank.

"I told you at the hospital because I wanted to be honest. You always told me I was keeping things to myself, I was trying to open up. But it didn't work. And then Danny found out, and a paternity test was performed, and it was his, and when those words were uttered, I know Danny watched all hope in me drain."

"I don't care about Danny! You haven't told me why you are telling me this." Martin shouted at her again.

"I'm telling you this because for the past seven years, I have been living a life I don't want. I have a daughter who only knows what love between a father and daughter, and mother and daughter is like. She doesn't know what love between parents is. I don't love Danny; he doesn't love me. You have moved on, I understand that, but I also know, that you have to understand just how sorry I am."

Sam watched as Martin's expression changed, he looked as though he was about to start laughing, and then he started. "You still don't listen to me." He laughed, stopping and stepping up to her. "I don't care about how you live your life. Any care I was to have of you was lost the moment your brain decided to have sex with Danny Taylor."

Sam couldn't help herself. It was like a reaction one gets when they touch something boiling hot. Her hand acted ahead of her brain, latching onto Martin's left cheek and leaving a near perfect imprint. "What's happened to you?" She was sobbing now. "What happened to Martin Fitzgerald, loving, caring and the most brilliant man I've ever met? I'm trying to apologize here. I have seven years of guilt, and you have seven years of anger. What would make you happy? Would me having an abortion make you happy?"

Martin held his cheek, wincing visually, and Sam knew he'd be feeling her hand for at least a week.

"You know, have you ever sent a thought to Danny? He was your best friend after all? Or was you giving him a set of broken bones your way of getting that anger off your chest?" Sam questioned.

"What are you offering to lie down and be assaulted?" Martin asked dryly.

Now it was Sam's turn to smile angrily. "Is there any feeling left in you? And no happy memories here in New York? What about the Tolland's? Despite Bonnie, I know you loved the time you spent with them, I saw it!"

The click of the room door alerted both Martin and Sam to Julie's presence, both stopping and immediately looking to her. "Five minutes." She spoke simply, pulling her sweater off and throwing it on the bed.

Sam held up her hands, and stepped away. "You know, my father wasn't a great man. Although I was always certain I wouldn't fall for a man like him, I see now that I was wrong." And she left, the last thing she heard as she disappeared was coming from Julie;

"Who was Bonnie?"

--§--

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